


What Are We But Pieces - Vision/Reader

by BridgeToTheSky



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Denial of Feelings, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Kisses, Other, Problem Resolving, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Sexual Tension, Vision snaps you out of being an idiot, kissy kissy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 17:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5173022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BridgeToTheSky/pseuds/BridgeToTheSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You would take note. </p><p>You would take note that the next time you choose to run away from your problem (problem; singular, not plural) and seek refuge in an unknown, dingy hotel room, you would remember that your problem in question was a six-foot-three Vibranium android with an habit of annoying you and possessed the ability of flight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Are We But Pieces - Vision/Reader

You would take note. 

 

You would take note that the next time you choose to run away from your problem ( _problem_ ; singular, not plural) and seek refuge in an unknown, dingy hotel room, you would remember that your problem in question was a six-foot-three Vibranium android with an habit of annoying you and possessed the ability of  _ flight. _

 

And it would be such a good note, too. Nice and bright with dark marker so it would never blend in other things on your refrigerator door like  ‘ _ Take out trash _ ’ and  ‘ _ Iron before Daily Show.’ _

 

So when you opened your curtains on your second night there in hopes of stepping out to hear the traffic and let the night’s air embrace you and instead saw, levitating across from the railing, cape sweeping the air, waiting, was Vision, of course your primary feeling was surprise, but it quickly surrendered to another: irritation. You swept the curtains back where they were and stepped back into the room; a childish response that you relished in — _ Ha, take that, feel those curtains, Rosie! _

 

“Are you trying to pretend as though I am not here?” You heard Vision inquire from behind those curtains. 

 

“No,” You replied back, tossing yourself into bed and grabbing the remote in a desperate attempt to find something with which to busy your hand. “But if you want to give that a try, not talking is the first step to, you know, not being here. Get on it.” 

 

“And the second step?” 

 

“ _ Actually _ not being here. How about that? Cause, you know, sometimes you gotta run before you can walk.” 

 

“You appropriated that from Tony,” Vision said, revealing himself from beyond the curtain. You were further irritated to notice that his cape was the same pale golden as the curtains, but with less grime and, surely, semen. 

 

_ Further _ further irritated by the fact that you had noticed that the curtains bore resemblance to the magnificent cape that — oh,  _ lord , did you just call it  magnificent? _ Fiddlesticks. 

 

“I know because he says it often,” Vision continued. “He thinks it makes him sound profound. It seems you have taken lessons from Tony in many things; wisecracking and avoiding that which makes feel you vulnerable, to name a few.”

 

“Tony thinks a lot of things,” You said, refusing to engage in eye contact with the android. You held the channel button on the remote, the lights from many shows and movies flashing and then disappearing from your face.

 

And silence stretched, in which Vision took an opportunity to sweep the room, which led to the surrender of your eyes; they traced up Vision’s form as his back was turned, and you detected the muscle that lay underneath his plates and synthetics. You focused on the veins that rippled the back of his hands — so real and so not all at once — and you felt the desire to rise and feel the action of those veins against your own hands.

 

Willpower. You remained where you were. 

 

Vision turned at last, and, as blunt as always, he said, “(Y/n). Come home.” 

 

“No.” 

 

“Your feelings for me are why you are behaving this way —” 

 

“You narcissistic robot,” You said, slamming the remote down on the bed. “Has it ever occurred to you once that I may just want out?” 

 

“You have never expressed any displeasure with the team — or  _ me _ — before  _ us , _ (Y/n),” Vision said, looming over you, voice firm. “One cannot help but put the pieces together.” 

 

“Pieces of what?” You said, meeting Vision’s hard gaze with your own as you stood, nearly nose to nose. “Vision, you are nothing  _ but  _ pieces.” 

 

A low blow. Hideously low. Vision backed slightly, but did not break eye contact.

 

And you wanted to take it back, to snatch all the words from the air and hide them away, make them not happen, but you couldn’t, and a part of you didn’t want to; they gave you power, leverage, a place where Vision wasn’t making sense. You slouched to the bed again, your back to Vision, though in your peripheral vision was a piece of his cape grazing the floor. Always, in your peripheral vision. 

 

You blurted it out before it became a trouble for you. “I’m sorry ... God, I'm _sorry_ , Vision. But I’m right. You’re pieces. You’re a creation —” 

 

“And you are not?” Vision interjected.

 

You ignored the philosophical turn in the conversation. You turned to him, something that would have been otherwise impossible had you not recently found a way in without being vulnerable. “You see that,” You pointed up at the radiant golden stone embedded in Vision’s forehead. “That is what you are, Vision. You wouldn’t be possible without that … what if we lose it? What if it gets eaten up by darkness or it slips out of our hands? Or both? Or … or —” _ It’s not with us and we lose you. What then, Vision? Where would that leave me? _

 

All things you wanted to say and were glad you didn’t — 

 

Until … — 

 

Vision’s eyes expanded slightly with realization, and you understood your mistake too late. 

 

He could read minds. Damn. Take note.

 

“You fear losing  _ me , _ ” he said. “And so you are denying yourself the happiness that being with me brings you …” 

 

“Narcissist —” 

 

“Am I wrong?”

 

You didn’t reply. Defeated, you retreated your gaze. 

 

The cape in your peripheral view shifted as Vision began to walk in front of you. “And what about me, (Y/n)? What is the true difference between my stone and your heart? Do you not think that I imagine? Your heart ripped out from your chest, or its cease in beating? What you fear for me is what I for you, but what am I doing?” 

 

“My heart,” You said, standing to meet him, “is not an item with unknown power from space, Vision! You’re being stupid! My heart isn’t the thing thousands — probably millions — of different species of aliens — and humans down here, now that I think about it — would want if they found out what it was capable of!” 

 

Vision’s reply came in a whisper akin to a caress. “I beg to differ, (Y/n).” 

 

“Oh, how romantic,” You nodded. “Smooth.” 

 

Though, the part of you that was in love with this android couldn’t help but swoon —  _ my heart is desirable to him. _

 

And then the other part of you —  _ oh, get a fucking grip. _

 

“You believe my existence is fragile,” Vision said, and you bit the inside of your cheek — you’d very, very much appreciate if this android would stop telling you how you felt. “But you are wrong …”

 

His hand came up, and grazed against your shoulder, his gaze both hard and soft on you. And you cursed yourself at the goosebumps that ignited there due to his sudden attention. 

 

“I have much to learn about the experience of living,” Vision said, inches from you, in almost a whisper. “But I understand that it is important … to find those who make fighting worth it, and, as saying goes, the more the merrier.” 

 

His light-green eyes held your own, and his hand — sneaky, _sneaky_ hand — held your chin, thumb brushing against your lower lip. 

 

“You are one my my reasons,” Vision said. “Am I yours? If not, simply say so … but I will know if you are being dishonest.”

 

You wanted to meet his touch, lean into it and surrender, make Vision’s hold against you complete with your body as well, as well as mind, but the final figments of stubborn that sat within you held steady. 

 

Unfortunately for you, they sat silent, and silence was all you could afford because — because you couldn’t lie. 

 

So …

 

_ Yes , _ You said, voice heavy in your mind. You saw Vision’s expression glaze over your physicality, and you understood that he was fully in tuned with your inner language now. 

 

You closed your eyes, blush overtaking your cheeks, heating up your throat and causing you to gulp. With your next overlap of words, came the sensation of exposure, nakedness, that made you uncomfortable. 

 

_ Oh, anyone, anyone else but Vision. Please … — _

 

_ Yes, you are. You are one my reasons. I wish I could refer to you as something as cold as ‘companion’ but I can’t. I wish I could relate to you as just a teammate and friend, but I can’t. _

 

_ What am I, then? _

 

Vision’s voice, a soft yet commanding presence, mingling with your own. 

 

You are, you began to answer, and, like a balloon losing air, it is a relief to finally say it: 

 

_ My Vision. _

 

“(Y/n) …” Vision said now, vocally and alight with a passion it often lacked. His hands came to softly grasp your face. “Please tell me if there is something incorrect in my performance.” 

 

“What perform —” 

 

Vision did not give you any time further delay him as he pulled you to him, lips coming over yours. Their shocking in their warmth despite the cold of the night and you stand, unable to process the event taking place now. 

 

_ Vision is kissing you. Vision is kissing you. _

 

He is taller than you by far, and his arms come around to hold you tightly to him, one buried in your hair and the other flat against your back. 

 

Light, like a leaf, you felt, in his grasp. Your hands debated on what to next, before they did all they could imagine doing; slipping up Vision’s arms and wrapped around his neck, crushing your body to his. 

 

“You are a gift,” Vision murmured against your lips. “You did you deny me this for so long …?” 

 

Delirious from the kiss, you said nothing, forcing him back into the kiss with hands on his cheeks. It felt like the world was spinning out of control as the heat became too much. Vision’s hands kept at your back.

 

“Vision,” You moan, finally parting from the kiss to press your lips against his cheek, feeling the soft vibranium that was akin to his skin, and how impossibly warm it was — he was. How was he so warm?

 

“(Y/n),” Vision whispered. “I was assigned to bring you back to the base. Do you want to go now?” 

 

“Of course not,” You answered, smoothing your hands over the soft golden metal that attached to his cape. “If the world isn’t ending, I’m not interested.” 

 

“My feelings,” Vision said, snaking a hand against your cleavage, and gave a brief, experimental squeeze of your breast, “exactly.” 

 

***

 

Time was weird, all-encompassing and strange. Only seconds ago did it feel like you were exploring Vision with your eager hands, wanting to understand but more importantly no longer interesting in hiding, cowering in fear.

 

And now, your head was against the pillows of the hotel bed. Quiet, with sunlight bearing on the curtains, begging to stream into the room and heat the place with its warmth. 

 

You shift, and you see Vision, his back to you, his hand had brushed away some of the curtain so that he could look outside himself.

 

“You’re awake,” he said softly. “Did I wake you?” 

 

“Oh,” You began, difficult to speak. “No, it … I … no, you didn’t wake me.” 

 

Vision nodded with a “hm”, satisfied. 

 

“So,” he turned to you, eyes impossibly beautiful to you in their greenish-blue depths, “what happens now?”

 

You took a breath. “We go back. We … resume as normal. I promise not to take off like a melodramatic sixteen year old girl and act like an adult.” 

 

“Good,” Vision said. “Very good. And … us?” 

 

You smiled. “We resume, too. Not like normal, but … better. Much better than before.”

 

“I am glad to hear of it,” Vision said, and as he approached you, reached out a hand to smooth back a piece of your hair. “I have always thought it uncommon for humans to look lovely when they wake in the morning, but you have seemed to —” 

 

“Oh, sweet-talker, you,” You said, smacking Vision’s hand away. 

 

He offered you a charming smile, and backed away as you rose to dress. 

 

Vision threw back the curtains, the light of morning splashing into the room and startling you.

 

Once you had adjusted yourself and redressed, you said, “let’s go.” 

 

“Are you going to pay the hotel?” Vision asked, standing in front of you.

 

“Yes, of course, just … just not now. Get us out of here, Vision. I think something’s  _ growing _ in the corner.”

 

And he didn’t banter with you, only came to collect you, bridal-style, and brought you to the balcony, where he gently took off into the air with you. 

 

Your heart leaped at the sensation of leaving the world behind. The sky was the bluest of blue, undisturbed by any speck of cloud. The sun felt inches away from you, burning your hands that were once again wrapped around Vision. 

 

What better way to open the world to your eyes than to fly? Where it looked both small and very big, both expanding forever and right in front of you.

 

You leaned forward to kiss Vision’s cheek, and you saw his eyes narrow as he looked over you. 

 

And it didn’t take you long to realize that, Vision was flying awfully slow.

 

But if it really was intentional or no, you didn’t question it, preferring, instead, to rest your head against his chest, engulfed by him and the wind that brushed the two of you by, as though it, too, wanted this to last moment where the universe and its many problems shrunk and became negligent, leaving only the duo of you, to last.


End file.
